Expectation
by TheBlackButler
Summary: Nikolaus has always lived a regular, boring life. But when a new Danish student starts going to the acadamy, Nikolaus knows him from somewhere, he just cant remember from where. Nikolaus is determined to remember him, even if it hurts his loved ones...
1. Introduction

In the morning I wake up to that stupid bird.

I stare at the bird in the cage as it pecks the bars with its beak. The bed on the other side of the room is empty and neatly made.

Right. Now I remember. Cyrus told me last night he was going to leave early for school to get some information for his history test.

Cyrus' pet puffin squawked noisily, almost deliberately piercing my ears.

Glancing at the time and the dark window, I shove myself out of bed, throw my pillow at the bird, and begin to slide off my clothing.

It'll be another boring day at the World Academy.

It's only 6 a.m., but our dorm is a bit far from the school. We always have to get up early, get dressed, grab something quick, and head off.

My first period is a study, so I usually have time to finish some homework I was too tired to do the night before.

So I slide on my school uniform, snatch an apple from our fruit bin, slide my bag over my shoulder, and head off.

The day is off to a slow start.

After a full weekend with no homework, as usual, my handwriting is sloppy. Cyrus decided to ditch this morning instead of working like he promised me. His choice, not mine. He'll pay for it later.

"Hey!" Some voice calls loudly behind me.

Flipping through my notes, I ignore it.

"…Hey!" The voice is louder, closer this time.

In my head, I begin to read to myself: _'The Pythagorean Theorem, a mathematical equation, states that any two sides of a right triangle—'_

"HEY!"

The same, loud, annoying voice makes my ear drums crack in agony. Holding my hands pressed hard against my ears, I spin in my seat and shout back, "What?"

Before I knew it, the person sat next to me at the stone table. "Hi." He grinned wide at me, his blue eyes sparkling.

I narrowed my eyes, raising an eyebrow. "…Hello." I don't even have enough time to turn back to my math notes before he talks more.

"I'm new."

"I've noticed," is the bland response I give him while unscrewing the plastic water bottle cap.

The student lied his head down on his arms, staring at me questioningly. "Aren't you going to tell me your name, or ask for mine?" He whined at me.

I sigh. "If you insist."

He grinned at me, sitting back up. "I do."

The student was grinning like an idiot as he watched me put my water down, waiting for his response.

A pure smile. "I'm Aksel. A transfer student from some boring high school in Denmark." His hand came to rest under his chin as he added, "You could call me the King of Northern Europe, if ya want."

"No thank you, Aksel," my attention switches back to my notes. I flip through several pages before a hand swipes the book away. "Hey!"

Aksel smirks at me, holding the blue spiral notebook between his fingers. "You didn't tell me your name."

I give him a suspicious look, getting to my feet and snatching my notebook back. "Nikolaus."

He stands as well, much to my displeasure. "Are you new, too?"

Picking up my books, I raise an eyebrow. My eyes shift to the mountains of books and folders in my arms as I slide them into a bag. "I thought that would be obvious."

"So no?"

"I transferred here in 5th grade."

"Frooooom?"

Before I slip my bag around to my back, I considered hitting him with it. "Norway."

His eyes light up. "Really? That's so awesome! I'm from Northern Europe too!"

As if he hadn't told me already.

"Right…nice meeting you, Aksel."

I try to slide away, but he grabs my shoulder and jerks me backwards. "Where ya goin'? Some Icelandic guy told me you'd show me around."

The puzzle pieces slid together, slowly, one by one. _So that's why Cyrus left early. _

"I hope you're happy," I glare at my little brother, sliding into one of the wooden chairs. "Because of you, I had to show some freak Danish kid around the entire academy."

Cyrus smiles slyly to himself, running his hands through his slick, silver hair. "You should've fed Puffin the other day. He almost starved."

"But he didn't," I snapped, turning my attention to my half-completed history essay that was due in several days.

"What are we gonna eat tonight?"

"Make something yourself," I scribble down some more sentences. "You're 16, with two perfectly working arms and legs. It won't kill you to work."

Cyrus stood, shoving his chair in. "I'll order a pizza."

"Don't you have homework?"

"That's what study halls are for, Nikolaus." There's a grin in his voice.

Just as Cyrus picks up the phone and presses the first key, there's a pounding on the door.

"Heeey, Nikolaus! Can I come in?"

Before I could respond, or before Cyrus had time to stare at me (maybe even smirk), Aksel bursts into the apartment. He grins at me, wide, with his spiky blonde hair drooping from the rain outside. "Hey!"

"…Again, hello." Cyrus takes my paper away and puts it on the counter. I already knew I wouldn't have any more time to work tonight, anyway.

"Can you talk a walk with me? I can't find my room." Aksel slides a hand through his matted, wet hair.

Cyrus slides me a grin, but I shoot him a glare and answer, "Fine."

On the way out the door, I grabbed my school hoodie and pull it over my head.

"So you can't find your own dorm?" I fingered a few loose strands of hair that lay in my face, readjusting the cross barrette that I got when I was little.

Aksel grinned, shoving his hands into his jet-black jacket, ignoring the patter of rain against his face. "Mmm, maybe? I could've just said that to get you to walk with me." He's brimming with confidence.

"I hope you know you interrupted me from something important."

"Like fighting with your brother?"

I shot him a quick glare, avoiding another puddle. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself, Aksel."

He easily picked up the subject change. "There's not much to tell." The Dane glanced at the gray sky, shrugging. "Not much that you don't already know…"

I paused at a street corner, looking him in the eye. "What?"

When he turns to face me, I can see something hidden in the stare he gives me. But when I blink, it's gone, covered up by a warm smile. "Nothing."

I shoved my hands into my pockets, and we continued walking along the cracked sidewalk.

He sighed. "My earliest memory was wandering around in a forest, day after day. Food was only an object. Most other memories are pretty blurry. Though I remember being a hardcore drinker around 13." He grinned to himself.

"Wasn't it lonely in the woods?" I questioned him, glancing at his tall frame.

He gives me another smile, though it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nah."

The lights in the buildings become more noticeable as the sky darkens. The old, English style street lamps flicker on, and the rain continues.

Reality shakes me, making me realize we're not just supposed to be on a walk. "Uh, what's your apartment number…?"

He stopped. "1397."

The number rings in my mind. "You're rooming with the Swede and the Fin."

"Who?" 

The last people I want to talk about. "Nothing…just take your stuff—"

"I don't have any stuff."

I stared at him, searching for the answer to that mystery in his eyes. Come to think of it, he was…familiar. So familiar my heart began to pound in my ears. Heat spreads across my pale cheeks all the way to my ears, creating a tingling sensation.

I shake the feeling away quickly, scowling. "You're in the same building as me. Our dorms are named after famous unions or events. Ours is named 'Kalmar'."

"So we just wasted all of this time to walk around in a circle?" Aksel grins at me again, rocking back on his heels.

"Seems like it…" With that, we rounded the buildings and walked up to our Kalmar dorm, wet and tired.

Aksel stepped inside first, myself following him. The indoors quickly provided relief and warmth.

He shook his hair, similar to the method a dog uses, and ruffled it, giving it the same, blonde, spiky look it had earlier. Then, grinning, he said to me, "Thanks, Nikolaus."

I purse my lips, taking my hood down and adjusting my bangs. "Really, not knowing where your own apartment building is…idiot…"

Aksel's face turned serious, all signs of joking gone. It didn't fit for his appearance. "Weren't you listening before?"

I blinked. "Huh?"

Before I knew it, he had me pressed against the wall. Aksel had my wrists pinned, as he towered over me.

"A-Aksel—" Against my short, quick protests, the look on his face told me to stop talking. He leaned down, his eyes asking me many questions I couldn't answer—questions I couldn't identify. I could feel his shortened breaths tickle my nose.

"Didn't I say…" His hands slid off my wrists, and he moved in closer, "…that I might've done that to spend some time with you?"

The feeling returned—the feeling of blush creeping across my face, spreading to my ears that were hidden by my cream-colored hair.

_I didn't know what on earth had possessed him to do such a thing the first day he saw me. I didn't get it—I didn't get how he could be that way. And then he merely walked off, smiling and thanking me again. How he just proceeded to a normal mood after such a weird one…_

_Needless to say, Cyrus was grinning the rest of the night._

_I also got less sleep._

_His image, still ringing fresh in my mind as I slid underneath my covers, haunted me. The image made me scroll through my memories, trying to find out where I'd seen his face before. His smile, his eyes, his hair, the way he talked…all of them seeped into the cracks of my mind, telling me that I knew this man. That I knew this man very well._

_I just didn't know from where. _


	2. Interesting

_I always thought life was a cycle._

_Day after day, doing the same thing. All of your footsteps, slowly, ever so slowly, creating a rut in the ground until you can't see daylight any longer._

_After my parents died, and I was transferred here, my plans were to make no attachments. I was going to float through school, and the only one I ever spoke to would be my brother. _

_Cyrus told me I wasn't the same after our parents died, but he wouldn't remember me anyway. I was 11, and he 10. A 10 year old isn't observant. And our parent's death did not affect me in any way._

_I remember Cyrus asking me who gave me my cross barrette. I definitely love it. When I received it, it became a part of me. There isn't a day I haven't worn it. I don't remember for sure who gave it to me, but I assume it was one of my parents. _

_Our house was by a forest. It was wide, beautifully scattered with dozens of tens and hundreds of trees. Flowers, animals, colors, colors, colors. Everything that gave me an escape from the rut. That rut that I worked hard to stay in—the rut that I continuously jumped out of just to spend an hour in that forest. _

_All I ever wanted to do in that beautiful place was explore. Run around, tugging on the flowers and listening to the shift in the grass as I ran. I remember lying in the grass, watching the sky change shades, watching the clouds roll by. The things I'd do in that place until Cyrus trotted in and told me to come home for dinner. _

_I remember there being a child in that forest. Dressed in a blue cloak, and a white robe. I remember him wandering through the trees, swinging around a toy axe at the height of my knees. His obnoxious voice made the woods ring continuously with his laughter._

_And when he first turned around—_

I wake up in the morning with a start and a cold sweat.

"Morning," Cyrus says lazily, shoving a textbook into his bag. "You're late."

My body is already sitting up, and then it's moving, dressing me along the way, all the while my mind was reeling in confusion.

Finally, as I slipped my indigo jacket on, my voice found a way out. "I'm never late."

Cyrus grabs a granola bar from the food cabinet. "Well you are." His voice is muffled by the food in his mouth. He slings one strap over his shoulder and heads out the door.

I decided to skip breakfast, but three feet from the door, my stomach growled in protest. Checking the time, I skidded backwards, shoving an apple in my mouth.

_Damn…already 6:30…_

The half-eaten apple ends up in the garbage. My books won't all fit in my backpack, and when I try to take one of my binders out, papers scatter everywhere.

After maybe 10 minutes of picking up notes and worksheets, I stuff them into my bag and rush out the door, my bangs falling in my face.

As I rush out the door, constantly pulling my bangs to the side of my face, I glance at the spot where Aksel pushed me last night. The spot where he was serious about me…_the spot where anything he desired to could've happened—_

"Hey, Nikolaus," I hear the voice behind me already.

My face flushes as I turn to him. "It's 6:50…and you're just now leaving?"

"I could say the same for you." He grinned at me.

When we stepped outside, there were still puddles everywhere. As I start to walk forward into the street, he tugs my arm.

"Where ya' goin?"

"…School."

He frowns. "I know that. Why walk when you're this late?"

I sighed, glaring at the murky morning sky. "No other way."

Aksel tugs me around the building to a nearby parking lot. Hardly any cars are left—from what I know, the Swede and the Fin have been gone for a while. Sitting sloppily in a parking space is…what could be called _the _sexiest car I'd ever seen.

Sleek silver shine, daring black rims, folds in the hood, and deeply tinted windows.

"Now that is one fine car," Aksel grins to himself.

"It's…?" I stare up at him, completely fazed. He nods in response.

"_Aaaaall_ mine." God, that voice of his.

"How can you afford a car while living alone?"

"I could afford to be sent here, right?"

That one doesn't deserve a reply.

"Anyway, get in."

I shake my head, my bangs falling down in my face again. I nearly yank them away trying to keep them still. Why the hell did they keep falling?

A large hand gripped my waist. Before I knew it, Aksel had me over his shoulder and was carrying me.

"Let me go, damn it! I can walk!" I kicked and shouted at him, but he just sat me down in his car.

"Relax, Norge," He sighed, sliding into the driver's seat.

"…Norge?" I raise an eyebrow.

The car purrs as the engine begins to run. "You're from Norway, so I'm calling you Norge."

"Should I call you Danmark?" I glance out the tinted window, and the car begins to move.

"Don't know. If you want," He shrugs.

I glare to the side-mirror. _I don't._

The rest of the ride was silent. It took a couple of minutes to get to the center of campus. He dropped me off at my outdoor study hall.

As his car begins to pull around for him to leave, his voice stops me. "Norge."

I turn, internally cringing at accepting his stupid nickname.

He grins wide at me again, rolls down the window, and says, "You forgot something."

Aksel flicks something towards me. I catch it, glancing down at my palm.

My cross barrette.

I don't have to look up at him to hear the smirk in his voice. "See ya."

As I slide the clip into my hair, making sure my bangs are fastened behind it, I hear his car speed away.

There's only one thought I have: _'This guy…Aksel…he could be pretty interesting.'_


	3. Alone

For a while, I really got to know Aksel well.

Every morning, if I was ever late, he drove me to my study hall. He talked to me, we sat together at lunch, and it felt like he began to…like me.

I never thanked him for driving me. I never told him I liked talking to him. I never thanked him for eating with me.

And I didn't like him back.

He did tell me a lot of stuff about himself, though.

_"Hey, Norge," Aksel came up to me in the morning, folding his arms as he sits. _

_"Mmm, what is it, Danmark?" I'd come to accept his nickname for me, using the nickname I'd given him as equal treatment._

_"Can I tell you something about myself?"_

_"…Go ahead?"_

_"You probably already knew this, but I like being what people least expect."_

_I stared at him. "I kinda figured that out." I sipped my water. "What do you mean by that?"_

_"…Well," he starts, "for example, someone would look at me and say 'He's happy today'. So the next day I'd be something different. Throw them something they least expect."_

_"Like sadness, sarcasm, or melancholy?"_

_"…" He pauses. "Never thought about unhappy emotions."_

_"Well, there's a way to give people what they least expect even more."_

_He grinned at me. "Thanks, Norge. And, by the way…" He wipes my bangs out of my face, touching my barrette, "…you look prettier with your hair out of your eyes."_

_I swatted him away, blushing darkly. "I am not 'pretty'."_

_Aksel grins to himself, rolling his head around to the other direction. _

Someone pushes my arm.

"Norge?"

I turn, and Aksel is staring me in the eye.

"Yeah?"

He grins, glancing down at his food. "Want some smørrebrød?"

"What's that?" I raise my eyebrow.

"It's just a sandwich," He grins at me.

I sigh, ruffling my hair. "No thanks…"

"Are you okay?" He leans over his food, trying to look me in the eye. "You seem…preoccupied."

My head pounds slightly, beginning to form a storm over my mind. "Headache…that damn Berwald has been yelling so much lately…"

He raised an eyebrow. "You don't live with him."

"Yeah, but I live _next_ to him. That's bad enough." I began to slowly rub my temples.

Aksel sighed, biting into his food with a grunt. "Th' Sw'de s'd h' was g'nna m've out," He spat out, the food interfering with his speech.

I stare at my food, answering plainly, "Then you should let him."

He swallowed noisily. "I don't like living alone."

"Then don't live alone."

"How can I not? If Berwald moves out, Tino will follow."

"Find someone else."

His hands angrily slam the table. "Norge…!"

I turn, giving him a bored look. "Yes?"

Aksel quickly composes himself, bringing the temper back inside. "…Nothing."

Standing quietly, I throw my leftovers away, and gather my books. "I gotta go, Danmark."

"Alright." He stands as well, facing the other direction. "I'll see you later, Nikolaus."

I only realized he called me my name after he was gone.

* * *

About a week passed since then. I haven't seen Da—Aksel once. Still, everyday, after most of my work was done, I'd round most of the campus like we did on the first night. Without realizing, it became part of my rut.

For the past while, Aksel had come bounding towards my house around 3 every day. He'd bang on my door and ask for something—sometimes it would be to go somewhere, sometimes help with homework, and other times, he just liked talking.

But he stopped banging my door down. Eventually, I found myself waiting for him.

_It's already 3:23…_

Next door, someone slams the wall. There's yelling, and then someone storms out of the building. I hear two pairs of footsteps. Another figure slams against the wall, followed by a muffled groan.

"Nnn…"

I can hear his voice. Almost immediately, I jump off of my bed and race next door, shoving the door open.

Their side of the apartment is much messier than Cyrus' and mine. Mostly just Aksel's side of the room. Clothes were draped over chairs, bags of food and garbage lay everywhere, several plates were scattered brokenly across the floor. Aksel was leaning against the wall, sliding down to the floor slowly. The only clean part of the room was Berwald and Tino's area.

I couldn't help but notice that they shared a bed.

"N-Nikolaus…" Aksel groaned, clutching his arm and hitting the floor.

"Aksel!" I rushed over to him, turning him over to face me. My mind wasn't working the way it usually did, and I couldn't keep my neutral expression. "What happened?"

He bit his already bleeding lip. "The Swede…knocked me d-down…a-and—"

I was already helping him sit up and checking him for injuries.

"Don't talk," I muttered, regardless of what he said. "Tell me if anything hurts."

He stared blankly into the distance. "Everything hurts…"

Aksel looked down at me, his eyes filled with misery. But out of nowhere, a grin spread across his face. "I did it, Norge…"

Carefully, I lifted his arm over my shoulder and helped him stand to get him over to my apartment. Frowning, I asked, "Did what?"

"I'm alone…" He supported half of his weight, shuffling his feet out of the doorway, following my movements. "They're gone…"

Silence filled the air for a little bit while we slowly shifted over into my side of the building. He moved a bit faster after inside, sitting on my bed.

I closed the door, pulled up a chair, and grabbed a stack of bandages.

"Cyrus shouldn't be home for a bit…" I mumbled to myself, sitting down.

"N-Norge…" Aksel groaned at me.

"Aksel, I need you to…take your shirt off," My eyes shifted to the side, face growing hot. I ignored his grin, waiting for him to comply and slide his jacket off, then his shirt. Several bruises and scratches were scattered across his chest. Blood seeped down from the fringe of his hair all the way down to his chin.

I cringed slightly at the maroon blood smeared across his pale skin. First, I cleaned his wounds with a cool washcloth, avoiding looking into his blank eyes. I could feel my face grow hotter as the cloth swirled his neck, then down to his chest, wiping away all of the blood to reveal clear, creamy colored skin…

The blush creeped along to my ears while I bandaged him silently.

"Thank you…" He murmured quietly after I told him I was finished.

I sighed, rolling up my sleeves and moving over to wash my hands. "If you don't think what I did was okay, I suggest you go to a nurse, or see this Hungarian girl named Elizaveta—she's very good with medicine."

"No, I'm fine." I heard him stand, but I didn't realize he was coming towards me. Before I knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist and hugged me from behind.

"Danmark—"

"Norge…" He whispered into my ear as I felt one of his hands grab mine. "I don't want to live alone."

I dried my hands quickly, not turning around. "Are you saying…?"

"Yes…please…" Aksel rested his chin on my shoulder, breathing so evenly and quietly I could feel it.

"But…I can't leave Cyrus. He's only 16…"

"I remember you saying he was old enough to do what he wanted. The Swede and Fin will probably be living together from now on. So please…Nikolaus…would you live with me?"

At the time, my senses were rather dulled. The feeling of his bare chest touching my back, his hand wrapped cautiously around mine, his breath tingling my ear, the heat getting to my head and spreading rapidly across my body…

So I agreed to live with him.

All of my stuff was packed by the end of the week, and we got our new apartment.

The only thought on my mind was: _What am I getting myself into…?_

* * *

"Brother, why must you move out?" Cyrus questions me, helping me move a box from his car to the building.

"…Aksel doesn't like living alone," I muttered, setting one down on the couch.

Cyrus rolled his eyes, his eyebrows disappearing into the fringe of his bangs. "I thought you called him 'Danmark'? Should you call me 'Island'? How about calling Berwald Sweden, or Tino Finland? It's cheap."

I glared at him, hoping he could feel the burn of hate I tried to send out. "I don't know why, Cyrus. I have to stay in his company."

We finished unpacking the boxes in silence. He didn't even look at me. I couldn't blame him.

After most of the boxes were opened and items were scattered everywhere, Cyrus broke the silence.

"Try looking at him in _this _perspective," He snarled, and snatched my clip right out of my hair with a swift tug. "Maybe then you'll see where you—I mean, where _we_ know him from."

"Cyrus—!" I tried to take it back, almost jumping for it, but he dodged quickly, and sprinted out the door. My bangs fell into my face, covering most of my vision.

Aksel walked in the door, sweating slightly. "Is everything unpacked?"

I nodded underneath my bangs.

He frowned, closing the door and walking over to me. "What happened to your hair?"

"Cyrus…stole my clip," I muttered, turning away and moving some objects around. Remembering what he told me, I turned back around.

I couldn't see anything recognizable about the Dane in front of me. I only recognized what I'd been seeing for the past month or so. I knew his face…but I didn't know from where.

"I…I'm going to get some rest," I sighed, turning away from him again with a swoosh of my bangs.

"Alright…" He sighed as well. "I'll be out for a while."

"If you even think of doing something stupid," I snapped while lying on my bed.

"I'm not," There wasn't a grin in his voice like usual.

Flustered and tired, I nodded off to sleep minutes after he was gone.

* * *

_"Hi!" The boy comes running up to me, face light up with a grin. "You like to play in this forest too?"_

_My long robes shift as I sit up. "…Yes, I do."_

_He frowns almost immediately after seeing me, sitting on his knees beside me. "Move your hair! I can't see your eyes!"_

_"I can't," I mutter, wrapping my arms around my knees. "Whenever I move it, it falls back down. It won't stay."_

_There's several moments of silence while the boy digs through his pockets. Finally, he shoves his hand in front of my face, excitedly saying, "Here!" _

_In his hand is a small, plastic beige clip in the shape of a cross. Some of the edges are tarnished and worn, but he notices quickly and rubs it with his sleeve._

_"What's this…?" I take it from him slowly, turning it and looking it over in the palm of my hand._

_"It's a clip for your hair!" He exclaims proudly. "I was gonna keep it, but it looked weird in my hair—" He runs his hands through it for emphasis "—so you can have it!"_

_I look down, my face reddening a bit. "Thank you…but this isn't necessary."_

_So he nods and takes it back. But when I look back up, he's sitting on my lap, leaning forward and trying to fasten the clip in my hair. "Stay still…" There's a snap._

_"There!" He slides off of my lap, pushing the rest of my bangs to the side._

_Everything looks so much brighter. The sun is harsher, the trees are greener, the grass is higher, and the wind is stronger. _

_It seems so much more…fascinating._

_I can finally see what the boy looks like. Energetic blue eyes and a bright, shining grin._

_The grin settles into a warm smile as he proudly announces, "My name is Aksel."_

**Author's comments**

Yeah, I suppose this would normally go at the top? Oh well, I'm rather abnormal. So anyway-

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THIS! I appreciate it, really. I'm so glad how many people have watched me, even though this is my only story so far...

Four reviews seems like a lot to me. I think reviews are really helpful, telling me what you like and what I need to improve on. Anyway, I've pretty much had this story dont for a while-well, not done, but a couple of chapters worth done-and it's crossposted on DeviantArt.

Please continue to read my story Expectation. I'm working my hardest on it-and sorry if you couldn't understand the first two chapters. I wasn't all that familiar with , so I couldn't figure out dividers and stuff. I'm glad I know how to do them now, though...heh...

I'll continue to post and update, but I'm really busy with lots of oneshots. If you want to find me on DA, my username is IshimaruMichiyo.

Happy reading!


	4. I Remember

I sit up quickly, the moonlight streaming through the window shades and outlining my body. His name is the first thing that falls out of my mouth.

"Aksel."

His bed is still neatly made and empty. I fold my arms and sigh heavily, muttering, "You idiot…where are you?"

I couldn't sleep the rest of that night. After a while, I began to write meaningless words down on a sheet of notebook paper by my bed. After I wrote the words _together_ and _waiting_, I crumpled the paper and threw it onto his bed.

I remembered where Aksel was from. In fact, now, I remembered him very well. His beaming smile, his young, childish face, his squeaky, high-pitched voice from when he was no older than 10.

Memories didn't race back like they do in the books. I remembered them, but they were blurry.

I did have one memory that made up my mind.

_I roll over and groan, pulling the pin Aksel gave me out of my hair._

_"It's okay…" I mutter, turning it over. The blood pooling in my mouth begins to slide over the edge of my lower lip._

_"Nikolaus!" I hear stomping through the grass. Cyrus runs up to me, his silver hair falling in his concerned violet eyes._

_"Cyrus," I smile at him as he kneels, his robes covering his legs. "Did you see Aksel?"_

_He shakes his head, several tears flying. "Never mind him! What happened?"_

_"Th-the Russians…beat me…" Remembering that 15 year olds violet-eyed smile while his tan scarf fluttered in the wind shook my body._

_"How many?"_

_My voice begins to shake. "6…only 2 of them really hurt me, but the other 4 were holding me down…" I groaned._

_"Names?"_

_"Ivan, Natalia, Katyusha, Toris, Eduard, and Raivis. Need anything else…?"_

_His body shakes, hating this part of interrogation. "D-Description…?"_

_"Ivan was wearing a tan scarf and had light hair and violet eyes. Natalia had a white bow in her blonde hair and dull blue eyes. Katyusha had the same hair color as Ivan, but she had brighter blue eyes with tears in them. Toris looked worried, with medium-length brunette hair and green eyes. Eduard had glasses, aqua eyes, and regular blonde hair. Raivis was the most scared looking of them, and he had light blue eyes and curly, dirty blonde hair." I hastily caught my breath._

_Cyrus tugs me up, hugging my arm. "Sh-should I tell Aksel…?"_

_"No need," A voice calls from the trees. "Taken care of."_

_Aksel comes storming towards us, holding his toy axe he got when he was little. His usual grin is replaced by a deadly glare; not directed at either of us, but just worn to show anger._

_He drops his axe several feet from us, and it lands with a thud._

_"Aksel…?" I moan, sitting up slightly. "Th-there's blood on your toy axe…"_

_His glare is replaced again by one of confusion. "What? This is real."_

_"Huh…?"_

_Aksel picks up the axe, carefully inclining it towards my face. Cyrus, his hand in mine, lightly traced the edge of the blade that was dripping slightly. A moment later, when he removes his hand, there's a small cut._

_"They aren't d-dead…are they?" Cyrus sits me up, and Aksel lifts me slightly from underneath my arms._

_He grins as I wipe away some blood on his cheek. "Of course not. I only punctured the weaker ones as a warning." Aksel turned to Cyrus, nodding at me. "Tell your parents I'm taking him to my house."_

_My fractured wrist meets his cheek as I shout, "My parents are dead, you ass!"_

_Aksel's eyes widen, then he looks down. "Sorry."_

_Cyrus nods, then shuffles away._

_He leads me through the grass, eventually pulling me onto his back. Aksel must've ran forever just to get me somewhere. I drifted off, and when I woke up, I was lying on a messily made bed._

_A grin spreads across his face as he says, "This is my palace."_

_It's a small, cramped shed. His bloody axe leans against the wall with a cloth draped over it. Clothes are bundled in the corner, and an old cooler sat on a table, probably filled with food._

_"This…is where you live?" I sit up, my stomach lurching slightly. "Where are your parents?"_

_"Don't have any." His grin widens._

_My head spins slightly, and I fall against him. His grin has melted into a smile again, and he holds me against his chest. All the while, my face is burning._

_"Aksel…since my parents died, they'll probably take me away soon."_

_"Then let me say something." He grabs my chin, pulling me closer. "I like you a lot, Nikolaus."_

_My heart stutters, almost stopping dead. "…Oh." I look away._

_"What?"_

_"…I don't like you, Aksel. At least, not in the way you do."_

_Aksel's smile is so heartwarmingly pure it makes my stomach lurch again. "Well, if this is my last time seeing you, let me at least me nice to you."_

_Then, he readjusts my barrette, cleans my face a bit, and takes the string I wear around my ankle and reties it._

_"Thank you…" I sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed._

_Soon, before I know it, I'm leaning towards him. My forehead lightly touches his, and Aksel grins again, knowing he's caught me in a lie. My fingers awkwardly entwine themselves between his, our mouths so close we could taste each other's breath._

_"Aksel…I—"_

_Someone knocks on the door. I hear Cyrus with panic in his voice. "Brother, brother, if you're in there…they're coming! The people who are going to take us away—"_

_Aksel smiles at me again, shoving me out the door. "You should go."_

_"W-Wait—"_

That's where the memory stopped.

I sit up in bed, nervously looking around. Aksel is lying calmly in his bed, sleeping soundly.

Carefully, I slide out of bed, not bothering to replace the covers. I creep over to where he's lying, watching his chest slowly rise and fall.

Without realizing what I was doing, I slide on top of him. My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when the bed creaks noisily, but he only groans slightly in his sleep.

All logic is defied and gone in my mind as I slowly lean down, my face inches from his, feeling his warm breath on my hot cheeks. Before I can go any further, his eyes snap open.

"N-Norge…? What are you doing?"

I lean over him slightly, face burning. His eyes are filled with confusion, while I'm positive mine are filled with self-questioned desire. I wipe away some of my bangs.

"Finishing what I started." And with that, in one swift movement, I leaned down and connected us together.

* * *

**Authors Comments**

Yeah, this is the last chapter I've had done. I'm working on chapter five, but you know...the next chapter is where it gets M. Implied sex in the next chapter.


	5. Here We Go

"A-Ah—Aksel, don't t-touch that—"

"What? This little curl here?"

"Y-Yeah…"

"Okay."

"I said st-stop touching i-it!"

Aksel was tugging the little curl at the back of my head. The one spot where I turned completely opposite from what I normally was—the one place that if touched by anyone other than myself would arouse me _deeply_.

My lips meet his, my mind fumbling nervously on what to do. I'd never really kissed someone except for a quick peck on the cheek, or maybe kissing a girl on the lips—briefly. I'd never full on kissed someone like he was expecting me to do—and even if I would have, the last person I'd expect it to be was a guy.

With sleek and fast hands, Aksel unbuttons my shirt, keeping our lips connected. He forced open my lips, sliding his tongue inside of my mouth, while I pulled myself onto his lap and played back to his game, sliding my own past his lips.

He was toying with me—playing a game they liked to call seduction. I liked his ways, the methods he used to try and get me to play along. His cold hands slid up my shirt, eagerly exploring my chest, while his voice provided cool, practiced words that cooled the heat burning insanely on my face. Aksel had obviously already had plenty experience.

Aksel was fast. He'd gotten me sitting on his lap in no time—maybe about a minute. I couldn't help but imagine the things he could do in an hour.

He'd opened up my lips and was exploring every inch of my body. A trail of saliva slowly dripped down the corner of my mouth, and, being the ass that Aksel was, he took advantage of it. His tongue slid out of my mouth, following the trail and slowly licking it away. My hands clutched his shirt nervously as it slid down my jaw line, then my neck, slowly making its way down to my collarbone.

"Aksel…" My cheeks burned insanely, and my heartbeat was so loud and he was so close I was afraid he could hear it.

Excitedly hearing his name, he continued down to kiss below my collarbone. His hand slid along my waist, slowly rubbing his thumb on the waistband of my pants. I bit my lip to keep from making any noise.

"I'm not going to do anything bad to you," He purred, grinning into the crook of my neck.

"D-Don't believe you," I shivered, feeling his cold lips press against my skin again.

"All that I've wanted…" Aksel's hand traced the shape of my lower body slowly, "…since I met you…" he continued on and slowly tugged my old jeans down, running his fingers across the waistband of my boxers, "…was to be around you. Turning around on that day…felt like I was looking at the sun. It was so bright, my eyes hurt."

Frustrated, I sat up hurriedly and slid my pants down to my ankles, leaving me in an open shirt and boxers. He grinned that shit-eating grin of his, leaning forward to connect us again.

I craved the taste that lied on his tongue. Everything about him reminded me of a childhood I'd long forgotten—the scent of the pine trees, the feeling of the grass brushing against your legs as you ran, and especially the wind that ran through your hair—except this time, it was his hands.

He quickly pushed me off his lap, towering over me as the bed creaked loudly and briefly. My eyes, filled with confusion, stared up at his. I realized that we had switched positions—now I was the confused one, while he was questioning whether he wanted it or not.

Aksel's lips quickly moved back to my neck, teasing me, sending a shiver down my spine. I could almost hear the grin as he said, "Ready?"

The bed creaked again under our weight. My heart sped up again as I muttered, "Ja."

And with that, the world became a blur.

* * *

"I hope you know this doesn't change anything," I muttered, buttoning up my shirt.

"Norge…" He whined, hugging me. "If it didn't change anything, are you just going to act like it never happened?"

I turn around and give him a sly grin. I pretty much never smile, much less _grin_, but I was staring at Aksel, and I wanted to throw him something he least expected. "I didn't say that."

Aksel's face flushed red as I turned around, saying evenly, "Now get your pants on."

* * *

"Good morning brother," Cyrus sighs, sitting down next to me during lunch. "Where's Aksel?"

I bit my sandwich, correcting him automatically. "First of all, it's noon, not morning. Second, Aksel had to go back home. He wasn't feeling well…" I ignore the pink blush spreading across my cheeks rapidly and continue to eat.

"Mmm, really." He begins to unwrap something. "How do you feel today?"

"Sore," I mutter to myself, feeling my back ache when I rest my arms on the table.

Cyrus grins at me, slyly retorting, "Well, you're sore and he isn't feeling well. You finally had sex?"

I roll my eyes, not being as nearly outraged as I should be. "Having sex with strangers is not something someone should go around doing. And watch your mouth while you're at it."

He glares at me, his violet eyes becoming slits. "You treat me like I'm 5. I've had enough of it."

"It's a good thing we don't live together anymore, then." _Or sleep in the same bed. _"You've become so immature and childish it's shaming to call you my brother."

"_You_ should watch _your_ mouth." He stands, trying to appear taller than me. "I have that cross that that dick gave you when you were little. I can and I will break it. So just leave me the fuck alone."

"Don't talk to me like that!" I stood as well, shaking slightly and feeling a shock of pain run through my back. "I am your older brother and you will treat me with respect!"

The next thing I know, I'm on the ground, clutching my stomach in pain.

Cyrus glares at me from where he stands, twirling the barrette in his fingers. "How's that for respect?"  
He grins evilly, leaving me on the ground.

"F-Fuck…" I mutter, my arms tightening their hold on the pit of my stomach. "Wh-What happened to that little boy that was my little brother…"

My midsection stopped hurting, but I didn't want to get up. Didn't want to move. Cyrus hated me now. He absolutely despised me. When in truth, I don't know what I was doing. I was being stupid—he was right, after all. He was 16, and he could take care of himself. I was such a hypocrite…

Something is whispered into my ear. I can't recognize the voice at all—my head was spinning far too much for that ability.

The next thing I know, I'm lifted up. The tall frame holds me close, whispering things to me that I couldn't understand. I assume they were things like "It's going to be okay" and "Just stay calm". But I couldn't bring myself to be interested.

I nodded off, my head lolling into the stranger's chest.

* * *

"Nikolaus…?"

"Mmm…" I roll over, opening my eyes slowly and looking at the figure crouching at my bedside. My eyes widen, taking in what I see. "Aksel?"

Aksel is beaten badly again. There's a bruise by his eye and a broken blood vessel, filling his cornea with maroon. He grins at me, murmuring, "You're awake."

"What happened to you?" I mutter, staring at him.

"I beat him up," He grinned again, his eyes wide. "Your brother."

I sit up immediately, and he rests his chin on my knee. In return he gets smacked away, followed by, "You did what?"

"Just what I said," he chuckles lowly, his eyes wide with a maddening look to them. "Now it's only you and me in the world, and that's all we'll ever need…"

The look on his face absolutely terrifies me. I break out into a quick run, regardless of anything—I don't know where I am, or where Cyrus is. I just have to get out of here.

My feet move me as fast as they can, running all around until I find him, lying on the ground, soiled by the rain.

_When did it start raining…?_

"Br-Brother," he rolls over, looking up at me through pained violet eyes. "Why would y-you do this t-to…?"

I shake my head, my hand on his cheek, listening to my breath come in short, quick bursts. "Cyrus, I…I promise I didn't tell him to do th-this…" Now I bet I'm the one with a pained expression. He crawls closer, and I sit him up, holding onto his shoulder. "Come on…"

He stood up, taking his damn sweet time, when I know that Aksel could be—and probably is—looking for me. Not in the sense that he was before. I sighed, feeling he wasn't ready enough to walk yet, and crouched down while he half-willingly jumped on my back.

_Oh damn, _my mind chokes out, _he's gotten heavy…_

As quickly as I could (which was not very at all) I trudged over to Cyrus' place, practically banging the door down. When I looked inside, I felt horrible all over again. There was just litter everywhere, and it was so messy I could have scolded him right then and there, but he was still badly hurt, so…

His wounds don't take long to clean up. There's just a bit of spilled blood here and there, and some bandages finishes the job. His violet eyes look up to me, pleading to say something to him.

I smiled down at him softly, not feeling it at all. He keeps looking at me as I crouch down to his eye level and wipe his bangs back, kissing his forehead and murmuring, "I'm sorry."

He drifted to sleep short after, leaving me alone with my thoughts and possibly the reminder of a murderous Dane on the loose. I stood up slowly, heading over to the door and locking it, but not two seconds after I do so, there's a banging on the door.

"Norge…! Please come out!"

My hands ball into fists, not touching the door. "On what grounds?"

"I just want you to understand for a moment."

"There's nothing _to_ understand," I spit harshly, almost turning away before another bang.

"Come _on_, damn it, please Norge! I won't hurt you—"

"It's not me I'm worried about."

"I won't hurt either of you!"

With a pause, I sigh and move back to Cyrus, kissing his forehead again, surprised he's still asleep. "I'll be right back…" And with that, I'm off, with what could be the last thing I ever say to my brother.

* * *

**Authors Comments**

Well, I actually did it. I actually updated this story!

Looking back over it, I actually kinda realize how much I've improved. Like, for example, I don't use the same word for every beggining of a sentence. It's hard, and though I've suffered writers block, this is finally up.

If you actually stuck around to read this part, oh my god, thank you sooo much. I only have a little bit to go, and I'm not so keen on calling Denmark 'Aksel' anymore. I like 'Mathias' better, but it'd be weird changing names in the middle of a story.

Reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading.


	6. Parting Ways

It began to pour the moment the door creaked shut behind me, and before looking at the crazed Dane a few steps ahead of me, I glance up at the faded plaque on top of the door. The dull numbers stared forward, still proud as ever, reading bluntly _1397_.

"Hey," his voice makes me wince at how casual it is. "Ready to go?"

My fingers twitch slightly, and my hand starts to shake as I turn. I take appropriate stance, keeping my voice even as I say, "Listen, Aksel, I don't want to fight."

I can easily see past the mask he wears in his eyes as Aksel smiles at me subtly, but there's nothing there but sincerity. "Norge, I'm not gonna fight."

"You know, my name isn't 'Norge'," I glare at him, fixing my position and pulling up my hood. He squints through the rain.

"Didn't we already settle this argument months ago?" Aksel chuckles, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. His jacket is long, sleek, and black, reaching just past his knees.

"You're right," I look down at the darkened pavement, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Whatever show he's pulling off is a damn good one; I can't read him at all. "We have a new one to settle."

Aksel sighs, looking over his shoulder at nothing. "I know…can you do me a favor, Nikolaus?" He turns back to me with a sad smile, eyes weary. "I'll answer anything if you walk with me."

My cheek twitches and I refuse to pull my face into a smile as I agree.

Same path as usual, same puddles jumped in and avoided. Just the same as his first day here. That asshole knows how to get to me without touching me. And I made sure he was careful not to do any of that.

"Why, Aksel…? Why did you do that to Cyrus?" I keep my voice even, monotonous.

"Jealousy," I wince at how blunt his voice is, like he doesn't realize what's coming out of his mouth. "I guess that's all it was. It never happened when we were little, but…" he trailed off.

"Elaborate." It's hard to match his tone.

"I saw the way he looked when I punched him the first time. He cried your name…and it…" he ground his teeth together, keeping a deadpan with the street. "It _pissed_ me off. Honestly. I didn't get how you could fight and hurt each other and your name is the one he shouted."

My stomach lurched forward, almost causing me to heave slightly. But I kept my balance carefully, afraid if I lost it he'd try to catch me. "That's stupid. It's just a normal sibling relationship. When you have no one else, that's what it turns to…"

"Since we were little, that's exactly what it felt like to me, you know."

He jumps into a puddle, and my heart follows him. "Huh?"

"Never told you?" Aksel turns back around, smiling at me with a dead look in his eyes. "My parents died when I was an infant. I was orphaned until into this huge house full of children…but when I turned 6, I ran away and found a little shack in the woods. Aaand…a year later, I found you."

"Y-You…" my voice shakes, threatening to break on me. "You're a dumbass. And the moment we get back to our place, I'm packing up my things, got it? I'm moving back with Cyrus."

Aksel steps closer again, and we're below a glittering streetlamp. The yellow light peeks out from behind him, illuminating his silhouette. "Please, Norge?" I can't help but notice his slip of the tongue. "I want you to stay. I'll make it up to you in any way I can…" he leans in, and I can detect the smirk lingering on his lips.

"No." He leans back, eyes patient and ready. "I have another question."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you have to beat him up? Why didn't you just confront him, or me? After you forced me into doing that…" Shivers fell down my spine, and I gripped my jacket tightly, flexing my fingers inside my gloves.

"Remember, Norge?" Aksel smiles, looking down at me. "I like giving people what they least expect. I surprised them and everyone, and I'm planning my next move."

"Then what's you expectation for me, Aksel?" My eyes narrow at him, but I know I'm done for. His smile already draws me right in under the glow of the lamp.

"I have no idea." He shrugs, clearly unaware of how his every movement affects me. Aksel's thumb and forefinger slip under my chin, drawing me closer. "You think little Cyrus will be upset if we do something while we're out…?"

"Ggh…I don't know about him, but I'll be." I jerk away from him, ignoring the jump in my stomach telling me I'm going the wrong way. "I'll be back by nightfall, and I swear the moment I step in the door everything is going into a box."

* * *

The door clicks into the lock, and Cyrus rolls over in his cramped little bed. His eyes squint open slowly, and he whines for me to turn out the lights.

"How…did it go?" He asks after a minute or two, almost cautiously.

"Fine," is the bland response he gets, but he seems satisfied with it. "Cyrus…I think I need to go back to him."

"Nikolaus, no," Cyrus objects immediately, just like I knew he would. "He's gonna hurt someone. I don't think you can take him, either." As if to clarify, his puffin squawks in agreement.

"It's horrible," I agree with him, giving a curt nod, "but I can't help it. Cyrus, he's just this big kid with no idea how to grow up…it scares me." I swallow loudly, staring past him.

"Listen, here's a better idea," he's sitting up now and leaning over the edge of the bed, almost touching his forehead to mine. "Live with Berwald for a bit. Those two can't ever get along, and usually Berwald wins the fight. Remember how he walked out about a month ago?"

"I can see where you're going, but the Swede still lives with Tino," I sigh, almost thinking it would have worked. Berwald is a nice guy with a scary face, I'm sure of it—I've worked with him several times in the past years. But I still can't get past that deadpan.

"Nope," Cyrus shakes his head, "they broke up 3 days ago. It was a fight about Ivan."

Ugh, Ivan. Just thinking his name whisks me back to age 13, lying in the grass with my body pounding with pain. His siblings or 'friends' aren't any better, either.

"…Fight?"

"Yeah. Tino was paired up with Ivan for a project, and, well, you know Ivan…" the bed shook a bit as Cyrus almost mimicked my shudder. "So Berwald went crazy and said he should ask to switch partners or do it by himself."

"That's dumb."

"Please, you should do it, brother," as if to persuade me, he whips out the term of affection. "Don't do it just for yourself, but…for me?"

"Damn it, Cyrus…" I sigh, standing up and ruffling my hair with a free hand. "You know, that look won't get you _everywhere _in life."

Cyrus grins, as if to know he's already won, which he has. "Thanks…brother dearest."

Stupid fucking Cyrus.

* * *

Walking back to my current home to pack, I weighed my options. Live with a psychotic Dane who seems almost madly (quite literally) in love with me, or a stoic Swede who is practically already 'betrothed'. He always goes around calling Tino his wife, like he was a girl.

But stranger things have happened.

My path twists and turns and for a while, I forget where I'm going and what's happening. I'm not 'Norge', anymore, and I never was. I didn't just come back from nursing my possibly bedridden little brother from a fist in the gut. I'm not practically on the run from an insane psychopath who wants everything to do with me. I'm not on my way to find the scariest student on campus and ask him to room with me.

Just me, average Nikolaus, taking a walk.

Even that in itself sounded distorted. Before Aksel came I never took a walk, unless it was to someone's place, a market, or class. But other than that, I just never really walked much.

I bump into someone, which is odd at this time of night. But just as I look up to apologize, I'm rearranging my words with stutters.

"A-Ah, Berwald…I was looking for you," I babble, cheeks pulling into an incredibly awkward half-smile. Unlike Tino, beaming and gushing over everything just wasn't for me.

Berwald gives a strange, abrupt nod, as if to acknowledge my presence. He grunts in response.

"Aksel's been getting kinda out of hand lately, and I was wondering…" I fist my hand and cough into it, filling some air, "…i-if I could room with you for a while."

He raises an eyebrow, questioning me. "W'ld'n't 't m'ke s'nse t' st'y w' Cyr's?"

This weird talk of his takes a minute to decipher. Come to think of it, staying with Cyrus over Berwald probably would have been the smarter thing—my brother over some guy who lived on the other side of the wall in our old building. But thinking it over again, that would be what Aksel expects, and it might be nice giving him a taste of his medicine. And I know that if he plowed over Cyrus once for me, he wouldn't hesitate to do it again.

"Already talked it over with him; he wants to keep living on his own," I respond blandly, sliding in the lie. "And Tino, well…"

As if to stop from hearing more about the 'dearly departed', Berwald holds up a hand and mutters, "No. 's 'lr'ght. I d'n't m'nd 'f y' st'y w' me." Damn it, I just hate the way he talks.

"Thanks…really Berwald, I appreciate it," I slip him a genuine smile.

"P'ck y'r st'ff 'n meet m' h're 'n th' m'rn'n'." He points to the ground, emphasizing himself, and walks off.

* * *

When I open the door, I thank the Gods over and over it didn't squeak. Any little noise I make could trigger Aksel, and I don't want him seeing me. Just coming back will give him the idea he's the winner.

He's sprawled out on the couch, legs draped over the arms. As I approach him, I think to myself…he almost looks normal. Not at all like the guy who I swore was going to kill me hours earlier. Just regular Aksel, face at rest with no anger. It calms me.

Seeing the bags crease under his eyes as he stirs ruins the moment for us both, and I begin to focus on the task at hand.

I've packed and unpacked so much lately that my arms are still sore every day. I think I'm beginning to hate myself a bit for moving around so much. But as both Cyrus and I agreed, it's for the best.

There are too many boxes to count, so I decide on taking the necessities. I find a suitcase and flip it open (as slowly as I can, zippers make far too much noise) and begin with clothes. Uniform, day clothes, night clothes, boxers, shoes and socks. Then I stuff toiletries into the front pocket along with my phone and its charger. Mp3 player, its charger, and other random things small enough to fit.

My fingers brush over my cross several times while working, thinking of the memories it contains.

Later in the night, when I'm nearly done packing, I find my keychain with the Norwegian flag on it along with the spare keys that Aksel and Cyrus gave me. I have no further use for Aksel's key, but Cyrus is a go, and why would I resist the flag of my home country? Two out of three isn't all that bad. So I carelessly shove them into my pocket.

It jingles loudly as it goes down, and a groan comes from behind me. I freeze almost immediately.

What feels like 20 minutes passes, and I turn my head over my shoulder as cautiously as I can. But he's still there, lying on the couch, fast asleep.

I zip up my bag, and I'm ready to go. The thought strikes me as I'm doing it that I'll be walking to class again, as I have no car of my own, accepting a ride from the Dane seems just stupid by now, and politely asking Berwald for a lift just plays out as awkward in my head.

There's nothing left to be done. My body moves slowly to glance at the clock—3:30 a.m. Does this count as morning for that Swede? I wonder.

All that's left is a simple goodbye. Anything could do, really. I could just nod and give a small acknowledgment, or throw a lamp at his face and sprint out the door. The latter seems appropriate, but since it's just me with an unconscious Aksel, anything is possible.

He doesn't even twitch as I move close to him, placing a hand on top of his, which lies on his chest. My movements are subtle and quiet—any sudden ones could jingle the keys again, and I will not make the same mistake twice.

Aksel looks so happy and at peace that I almost feel a pang of guilt even looking down at him. My thoughts flicker back to what I said earlier_—"Cyrus…I think I need to go back to him."_

That was still the truth if I ever said it. He almost felt like a drug to me, but what a sweet drug it was. The addiction I had for him seemed like it would never stop.

I'd fallen in love with this crazy bastard just a little too late this time.

I lean down, barely touching him as I go. I brush my lips across his in the most innocent form of a kiss and whisper, "Good night, Danmark."

* * *

**Author's Comments**

Well! I hope you enjoyed! All of this is 100% freshly written from moi. Personally, I'm in love with this chapter, if not near the end where I got a bit lazy.

This is probably the longest chapter I've written yet.

I really hope people are still reading...

Reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading.


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